What a year; the year that was 2020!

Days, weeks, months, years pass by. The pale blue dot continues on it perilous though insignificant journey, except that it gets a bit significant through human eyes.

In my eyes, 2020 will be defined and remembered for a lot of right-wing and fascist political parties showing their true intentions and colors. This year will be edged in our collective memories as a space and time when during a pandemic, the government and the powers that be chose to look the other side. When peaceful protests and dissents were violently crashed. When India became a pale version of itself... Its future as a true democracy in dire straits... When a temple became more than the deity inside it... When the deity's idol became more important than the deity's ideals...

All through this year with its unplanned and sudden lockdown with the most disastrous consequences showed India its true identity. That we were mostly bigots in the hiding. That the so-called urban educated believed in religion over state and caste over humanity. Most of the NRIs, with their rose-tinted spectacles for the PM and his ilk, were singing bhajans and completely veiling themselves from the realities on the ground. The largest reverse migration in the history of humankind was invisible to the government and the courts.

This was a year when I felt sad that I am an Indian. Truly ashamed of my govt, my people, and especially those who voted for the nincompoop and his ilk.

With WFH becoming the norm, and changing my job mid-year where the scenario was better-to-avoid-than-being-avoided kinds, I had overcome yet another crossroad in life. High risks were always a part of my life. 

I have always gambled huge, lost some along the way but in the end have always learned, loved, and won my own heart. For life as it is, is my only teacher.

The way forward was filled with fear and apprehension and the only solace, the only comfort, the only source of truth was her and through her, my newfound family. 

Alex brought in a kind of cheer, a bundle of joy that made my heart erupt with the purest form of love. His kisses, tangential conversations, trivial deeds, and questions of pure innocence made me feel like a father. His pecks, kisses, hugs, and story-reading sessions made me a child once again. His bad words and waiting for my reactions, his hyes and byes, and the way he'll run to me if and when hurt makes me want to outstretch my arms to this old addiction called life.

Andrew with his excitement, banter, and tireless topics of conversations made me feel wanted. He reached out to me in his moments of need, of attention, loads of self-contemplation, and hidden sources of sorrow. At the tender age of just 10, he made me realize and taught me the importance of being a fatherly friend and a patient guide to a boy, who hardly ever listens to what you say. Yet, his natural love and care makes you want to be there for him as he goes through this transition period in his young life.

My Cinnamom baked her life out this year while life baked her in more ways than one. 2020 tested her to the core. With her health levels plunging to the lowest of lows while her stress levels beating her previous records, it was a truly testing phase in her life. Her musings, her passions, her writings, and a few OTT series and movies kept her sane during an insane 2020. 

All through, I stood by her like a rock while she was my deep sea anchor. We complemented each other in every way possible. Deep conversations, solitary dual silences, a few disagreements, partner workouts, home gym, healthy food, verbal arguments, love bites, cafes, hot chocolates, home-baked pizzas and pastas, common friends, and sweet nothings... All became a part of our life and lifestyle as a family. 

We laughed between the sheets, made love in the open, stayed at her farmhouse, went on our first long ride, and even persuaded the police to meet each other during the strict lockdown with cleverly detailed and well planned moves! 

End of August saw me moving closer to her residence, which was a dream-come-true moment. With her house being just a stone's throw away, we got to be together almost every day. This gave us a feel of how life will be together. The mundane daily transactions, such as bill payments, other expenses, shopping for provisions and vegetables and fruits, planning our days ahead et al gave us an idea of who we truly were behind our ideals and moral compasses. 

Such days allowed me to silently catch glimpses of her true love and care for all her fellow humans, animals, and plants across all walks of life: feeding strays, baby-talking to them on our way to shops and back, looking after Skipper when he was unwell, advising her old and some long lost school friends through honest conversations, helping her maid, Padma, helping her hairdresser, Hanuman, visiting her cousins, and being there for all of them... Quite objectively, she truly is the best human being I've ever met and I've met quite a few throughout my brief but eventful life. :-)

All her close friends became my close friends too though I could not say that about a few of my close friends. I would have loved that but that's fine. 

As the year comes to a close, she's inspired me and pulled me from my depths of self-doubt and low self-confidence and made me shed a good 10+ kg while gaining lean muscle mass. Our new Honda CB350 doesn't look bad when I ride it now. :-)

2020 made life and love worth it. 2020 made me realize the importance of looking after my family, old and new. 

Here's to a hopeful, healthy, and happy "family-full and love-filled" 2021. :-)

After a stormy night

For the butterfly, it is out,
For the firefly what is within.
You and I survived this stormy night together,
Both inside and outside.

Our conversations and compromises
Change with the sky and stars
Like the raging storm that passes by.
We fall like wet twigs outside
Like stardust inside.

Let me hold your mind
And eyes
Like my poems hold your body
Like a catalog. 

Haikus - II

I. Gifts, scars, pity, hot chocolate?
What do you need, I feel...
My relentless love, tireless attention.

II. Sleepwalking prayers, like unconventional rains

I am not sad about myself...

Your broken things, muted pains.

III. I wish the autumn carries
Flowers in her back pocket, like you...
Drink the moonlight under a cocoon.

IV. Unwinding onions, layer-by-layer

Hold a wildflower in a storm, like your

Past peeled off but unfathomed.

Attempting Haikus

I.

Does the heart cry like rain?
Or, is it the mind that binds?
Come, flow like love in-between. 

                                                            II.

In the era of sunny #s

With neon-lit thumb typefaces,

She writes a love letter.

III.

Donut-shaped eyes afire

Bitter butter-soaked hands bake...

She stripteases our past lives.

Stillness in a workout

The calmness and the solitude you get while working out is similar to meditation. Either I am doing it right or am doing both wrong. :-)

Today, during my workout, I have begun to understand why Shaolin monks practice Kung Fu. How the mind does win over matter, if trained hard. 

Boundaries of 'the other' and 'my body' blur temporarily. Oneness permeates within, without thought.

As your body struggles and shivers, your mind stills. 

As your breath tries to escape, you let it go.

Each breath you take becomes a measured one. Each rep and each set starts being accounted for. Just like each decision, each change, each event, each action and inaction. Just like life. 

You know you control most muscles of your body; you also realize most of these muscles control your thoughts too.

Each workout is a lesson in humility. 

There's only this much weight you can lift, this much burden your mind can carry. For all the weights you lifted, all the breaths you took, all that you burdened your mind with, will one day turn to nothingness. 

We all end up as five elements and maybe a few more. For only time will tell our stories only to be forgotten in time.

Companions

People come, people go.
Like seasons and the winds, 
They change. 

With you, I can sit in a ruined city
And paint the heavens
And, like a mountaintop that touches
The clouds,
I want to touch your touch.

You're a stranger, who I know well, 
A strange dreamer who knew me well.
We wear each other's skins.

A savior, a hot cup of chocolate
In winter,
A book that my mother reads,
You're a temple for my broken mind
And healed heart.

After all, we're:
Companions of each other's
Sacred scars,
Storming in a tea cup,
Frothing in a coffee.

A few things

You're...

Deep conversations,
Loud laughter.

Unanswered questions, 
Avalanche of emotions.

Classical music,
Romantic novels.

Treasured memories,
Incensed fragrances.

Old books,
Stolen kisses.

...Just a few things,
I'll give up for
You.

For, you're...

Mating clouds

I wonder:
How even a fallen leaf reminds me
Of her?

As a train chugs by,
And insects mate with LEDs,
Both creating neon images,
I sit up on her bed 
And wonder: 
How this came to be?

In a sleepy, remote village,
Under a thatched roof's lighthouse,
As a rooster crows early morning,
Waking up even the goats,
I sit up on her bed 
And wonder: 
How this came to be?

As dark, about-to-mate clouds arrive,
But don't ejaculate,
I stand on her parched fields
And wonder:
How between our bedsheets, 
Those clouds mate?

Entangled

Your smile, 
My words,
Are entangled particles
Even if far apart. 

Entangled beyond comprehension
Like two hearts need to break
To find love all over again.

As our inside selves are found,
Will the cosmic bodies burn out?
Will the cityscapes turn into tombs?
Will the lights go off and sounds fall silent?

Till then,
Shall we smile
At closed and bitter mouthed strangers too?
As you look at your reflection in the mirror,
Shall we quote a word or three?

Submarine

Is that a dew drop or a tear
That rolled down your petalled cheeks near?
I know we're getting there
Without fear,
For there's grass, sand, running water here
Beneath our feet.

If only my words
And all that jazz that
Make up my poems
Could be stored...

In glass jars
On your cupboard shelves,
You could taste them 
Like your chocolate cravings.

Darling, come hold my hands
Not only because 
Yours was empty
But, also to fill mine.

Let us partake of each other's past
And pain
Like ol' rose wine.

Because only
Once in a while,
A joint dream turns true
Like a nuclear submarine
Out of the blue.

Barter

Starlight in her eyes,
Ghosts in mine.

Hope in her eyes,
Treasure hunt in mine.

Care in her eyes,
Madness in mine.

Poetry in her eyes,
Muse in mine.

Wings in her eyes,
Mine own the skies.

Fog in her eyes,
Rain in mine.

Thorns on her head,
Wounds on mine.

Now, come.
Let us 
Change sides.

Monachopsis

Tears on paper
Blot as ink.

Like a Samurai sword
Slashing a petal.

You're stoic to 
Unspoken pains
Though unsaid words
Bleed each month
From your womb.

Tentacles of bastard memories
Entangle you; you
Wrest free each time
Only to be wounded anew.

Come, dance with me.
Leave your monachopsis behind.

You know you're afraid,
You know, you're not alone.

But am I as 
Scared
as you?

Are you as
Scarred
As me?

A prayer in the dark

When I say I love you
I don't mean I'll die for you.

I wish your prayers you let out,
In the dark
When no one's listening, 
Turn true.

I wish our kids turn out strong
And have enough courage
To take life by its horns.

I wish for the colors to return to
Your tomato cheeks.

I wish for you to make a dollhouse
Of chocolates
And peanut butter sandwiches.

I will not burn for you
But I'll return from hell, if I need to.

I'll be your warm blanket in the cold
And let you be that naïve child, once again.

For when I say I love you,
I'll live for you.

Would you?

I found Keats in a café,
Blakes in a bar, and
My scribbled poems in a dustbin.
You change and
Exchange
What you don't need
In this world.

Can you too hear
The voice of a dreamer,
Singing songs spun by bards
Across time and space?

Do you too feel 
That ravenous thirst
And hunger
For fiction and love
And some jazz in between?

Do you too feel my face
Like a mirror pressed on to 
Your tanned skin
Like I feel your sunlit hair?

By the way, would you rather 
Read this love poem
With your old classmates
Across your desk during
A boring board exam?

The good place

When the gutar-goo is replaced with the scream,
You know you're in a good place.

When you feel at home at a farmhouse, 
You know you're in a good place.

When a child brings you a small butterfly
Only to release it later, 
You know you're in a good place.

When you look into a black well
Only to see a million stars above,
You know you're in a good place.

When a temple with a fierce Kali calms you,
You know you're in a good place.

When home-baked French toast is served hot, 
You know you're in a good place.

When you worship the goddess during Dussehra, 
You know you're in a good place.

When you hold her hands and she calms down,
You know she's in a good place.

9 nights

Electricity crackles,
Leaves rustle,
Flowers fall.

The crescent moon is awakened,
Drum beats announce Her raas.

She opens her eyes, walks the earth.
She breathes, each thought
Born and dead
With the air
On fire.

Bodies rise, bodies burn, 
When she dances with grace.
Poisons turn into amrut
As I crave for one last
dose.

What do I owe Her? 
Am just a collector
Of all creative debts.
Like scars of my past lives
Are my glittered blue veins now.

These 9 nights. 
The goddess in her dances
Inside my soul.

You found me

Our future is enough
For our past to fade.

Like two parallel railway tracks
Heading into the clouds,
Let us remember our purpose.

Like a snake in a river,
Snaking its way, 
Through treacherous terrain
Let us be alert of the heat.

I know I'll never find another you
Without even trying.
Like listening to a song and
Understanding it even
Without being depressed.

You're what I see through
My open windows
You're what God gifts through
My closed doors.

Like a deep river that evokes
freedom and fear at first,
You're the poetry that found me
In parts of me I didn't even know.

my seeds

mustard seeds popped about...
a kitchen floor
tells a story of 
what's cooking?

the essence of all that is,
ever was,
comes out
when it manifests
in the presence of a 
catalyst.

a poem is born
in the union of grammatical mistakes 
and poetic licenses.

seeds pop in my mind
when am cooking
thoughts peppered with feelings,
lost loves, and
willingly lost
petty mind games.

may i manifest as my poem,
with you, 
as my catalyst?

Quench

At the bottom of the marble stairs,
I trust you.

You'll protect me from the devil. 
I'll hide you from nightmares.

With each falling leaf,
What is it that you dream of?

My parched chest
Thirsty
To listen to your stories?
My myths?
Your forgotten wombs?
Cold stars?
My intimacy laced through your tattoos?
Handmade loves unlike artificial fairytales?

In this unadulterated love affair
Between poetry and me, 
Are you 
The metaphor?

We'll quench our souls 
With sacred tonic 
That pours from the clouds.

At the bottom of the marble stairs, once again, 
Trust me.

Colors of punishment

Take her hand. 
Stop the little girl,
Inside you,
Who you punish.

Like an old violin tune
Played out on a mandolin,
My skin emanates 
Your scent.

I skip over stones,
Bend below barbed wires.
I want to wear 
You
Everywhere.

Let us pluck love
As cobalt strawberries
From the skies,
As you bite my lips
Red.

In a world where 'I' no more exist,
My skin shall be
Your sky above.
Let my summer heart
Warm
Your winters.

No, you can't go back. 
We've turned the tides of time:
We've colored everything.

The Mist

The hunter rebels,

Her caring hands soothe...

The prey 

Stops its prayers,

Written as poems,

On paper wrinkled

Cashew and indigo ink.

Her fragrance floats

Across my pages

From second-hand bookstores.

She's a metaphor as deep 

As a child reading poems

With rose-tinted glasses.

A mystery that envelops 

An undead village surrounded by mist

In the dark.

I stare. 

Stand.

Watch. 

Her lone survivor.

Lucid

Someone would've hurt you
A trauma would've cursed you. 
Which is why that smile never leaves you.

Come to the land by the sea
Where no one knows you by your face
Where the cold breeze from the sea
Warms your cold skin
By the fire.

Let us hold hands without a plan.
If needed, rearrange the house and make it your 
Home. 
All housemates are mere guests
Only I will always stay.

Those few moments before you awaken 
From your sleep,
Let me in. 

Let us sink
Into God's lucid dream.

Light of your own night

This burial ground,
We call our body
Where a thousand hearts
Die. 

Let us resurrect.

This mausoleum,
We think of as our mind
Where a thousand thoughts are born
And more dreams die.

Let us rise and erect.

Let us go.
Rather, arrive.
Shameless,
Into that bloodshed night.

Come, shine a bit
On your own
On moonless nights
Like the moon.

For in the light of 
Your own nights
I belong to you.

A new poem, anew

Come, let us 'time pass'.
Or, think of better ways to pass time
Than sitting at the silent shores, listening to stormy waves 
While trying to hold on to sand in our fists.

Come, let us make our doors into windows.
Come, keep both our dreams:
One below your pillow,
The other in my left eye.

This October rain and magic
That drips from my inked lips
You always thought mere poetry.

No, this is my revolution:
When the sun bleeds into the sea,
The moon blooms under your cloudy skin.
A razor-edged crown fits my heads.

We know we'll never give up;
It's difficult to wait
But worse to regret
Not waiting.

You flower,
I'll be the leaves that wither.
Together till the end, 
You'll either end up on me or an idol.

Our poetry may end
For our
Poem to be born.

A new address

Sleepless nights, drowsy days.
People and cattle graze and meander, 
Ruminating on bygone yesterdays.

Some cities sell dreams, some melt like
Ice creams.
No city was ever made to hear your 
Screams.

Sunny balconies that hide tearful bedrooms.
Bathrooms where lustful uncles peep.

Busy schools and empty playgrounds.
Buses and trains and automobiles.

 

Potted plants and terraced gardens 
Personify farmlands that once were.

Half interested florists 
Mimic forests that once were.

Abandoned and reclaimed lakes froth in anger, 
Where monsoon brings acid rains.
Amidst all this horror, like a lotus in a dirty lake,
Love stories bloom.

In buses and trains, in theaters and cafes,
Among sweaty talcum-powdered underarms 
And carefully applied make ups and sunscreens 
Under umbrellas, corner bus stops, metro lights, and lamp posts
Waiting for a few sea breezes
Under the sultry sun and the scorching earth…

Love finds its way 
Like an old postman
Finds a new address
In an ever-bulging new city.

Inspired by all the dreams in between by Ananda

You, to me

Silent, serene serendipity 

Descended as a dawn.

A text from a farm miles away

Changed everything,

One fine day.

Tales of the past, 

Things that ended and stuff that last

Out every crevice, we cast.

We texted, we sighed,

Everything that we wished, we hide.

Coffee and café. Life and loves. 

Adventures and misadventures alike

We read aloud like bookmarks 

From our favorite chapters.

Between our crowded Jupiter to our Snubby, 

We’ve added more than a set of wheels.

Between your favorite music and my ghazals, 

We’ve made the wind dance between us.

A toast to this special day 

When your mom and dad 

Blessed this naked earth

With a dark goddess…

Come, let’s sip our wine like the sea inside.

Partake of our daily baked bread

That makes my Cinnamom’s heart 

Swell with pride.

I love how your chocolate cake and 

Cookies crumble in my mouth

While we complete this song of love

For you to smile and a 1000 fireflies to come alive.

Somewhere, my heart holding your flower vase cracks,

The petals float to rest between your crooked toenails.

These words do not alone a poem make

Your hands hold it like a kite 

Set against a yet unseen sky.

I hope this lukewarm poem 

May find you warm

And hide inside your soul.

Put this poem near your favorite succulents,

May they may grow better.

Let their thorny exoskeleton know

What only you and I can feel 

but no one else can touch.

Does this simple poem remind you of

Love letters from 

The sunflowers to the sea?

Wish I was the lighthouse 

And you the ship that carry those?

During these unforeseen types of lockdown, 

I want you to go peek

At the moon, look at the sky,

Play with the waves,

Heal your soul and

Unlock our love.

Now, am left 

Wondering 

Did this poem write itself?

And

How many poems about our love

Will you make me write?

Till you read 

And reply 

With a poem of your own? 😊